"You'll listen to me, dammit! As long as you're under this roof, you'll follow my rules and my rules only!"
Alfred sighed. He remembered that. As if those words were spoken to him just yesterday.
"Well, you know what? I don't want to live under this damn roof! All of these rules, your smothering! You're killing me, Arthur! I don't want to spend my life like this anymore! I can't take this any longer!" Alfred barked and slammed his fist on the table, making the objects on it rattle. He glared at his so called brother.
"...I can't take this. You're being the unreasonable one here, not me. You're the evil one here...!" He paused for a few moments as he let Arthur absorb his outburst fully.
"I'm sorry... but I have to leave you now... I'm not going to be treated like this... and my people won't be treated like this anymore either. Goodbye, England."
Alfred continued looking up to the blue, blue sky that hung over him. He was sprawled out on the hood of his trusty old truck, parked in the middle of a field somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
But to him, it wasn't just a field. No, this was a lot more important to him than just a pretty sight that belonged on a postcard.
" Engwand! Engwand! I'm happy to see you again!"
He remembered the many encounters he had with the Englishman here, the horrid and the absolutely wonderful. All the times Alfred would show him things he was curious about, things he wanted, and then in turn Arthur showing him some interesting things.
Books, trinkets, all sorts of things were exchanged. A lot of old, precious memories came back to him here, where it all happened. It all started here... The visits, those warm embraces... the games and fun...
He wondered how those times could easily been so ruined, and crumple to nothing more than distant fantasies and memories. How something he used to take for granted was thrown out like last week's trash. A shallow breath filled the young man's lungs.
America had to be honest with himself. He did love England greatly. And sometimes, those little sparks of deep emotion welled up in him and then compelled him to come here. He knew this, and could easily say it to himself. But saying that sort of thing aloud... now that was another story.
Alfred found himself chuckling. And now he remember just how easily and nonchalantly he'd proclaim it to his old brother, and then how he'd react. That flush and smile... that was real, right?
All those memories were real, weren't they?
They weren't meaningless... and they were a greater part of his life... at least, that's what he wanted himself to believe.
The personification of the United States sighed deeply. All those memories... he'd remember them so easily here. How meaningful they were, and how wonderful they really were to him...
He just couldn't believe how they'd disappear so quickly, with such brisk movements… all because of certain things done and said back in the day that made him want to dismiss them. All because of that grudge he still held to this day in his heart. Like a human acting towards another while in similar pairs of shoes as he...
'Heh... funny analogy...,' he thought to himself, smiling as a silence of his voice and mind ensued.
After a few moments, he began to wonder... now that this place where he lay would possibly become an expansion of an outlet mall... would he lose those memories for good? For as long as he was in charge of this vast nation he called home?
He continued looking up to the sky. Maybe, maybe not... What did he really know?
But then again... rather or not that would happen... he couldn't just let this place become a trashy wasteland where obnoxious teenagers would spit on the ground and not give a damn.
Even after the war, the hardships, his determination to never give in to England's ways again, he couldn't let this land that rubbed off on him go to waste. He had to make a stand.
The young man sat up on the hood of his car before hopping off.
"You abused me and drained me and my people of our freedoms as living beings... You assumed so much and expected perfection; up most royalty even after you became the villain," the blonde murmured aloud. He stood a bit taller.
"You're smile's gone... You only bicker and bring me down these days... so that's why I'm not doing this for you, Iggy." He looked up at the cloudless sky.
"You hearing this? Because I ain't repeating myself...," he said up to the sky, as if the Englishman could hear him from across the ocean.
"…I'm not doing this for you. It's just for me and me only. I'm being a selfish little bastard, but only because this place has tiny, tiny place in my heart... After all these years, I can't let this place rot, even after what you've done."
And so, the blonde stared out into the horizon. He had to stop the construction. He wasn't going to let a single piece of this land fall under a cone and be named a construction zone.
Alfred nodded to himself, as if he rehearsed a plan in his head, and got into his car. He looked out the window again, before looking ahead and driving away, down the path he always took that would lead him back to the city.